


Mason Sailor

by inversidom_riot



Category: Original Work
Genre: Character(s) of Color, F/M, Fluff, Gender Identity, LGBT, LGBTQ Themes, LGBTQA, Romance, Short One Shot, Transgender, Transgender sailor who falls in love with a girl in Malaysia, and something very soft and full of love, i just really wanted to write a story about sailors and love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-01
Updated: 2017-03-01
Packaged: 2018-09-27 14:41:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10026296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inversidom_riot/pseuds/inversidom_riot
Summary: A short story about a girl on an island in Malaysia and a transgender sailor who fall in love.





	1. The Same Ocean

**Author's Note:**

> Italicized letters indicates the character is speaking in another language.

I've seen the same ocean for nineteen years. The same cerulean with specks of turquoise. The same pearly white foam that washes upon the beaches before returning back to where it came from, as if shrinking from fear. I've seen it all, this city. But I've never seen anybody as beautiful as him.  


I was at the docks that day, purchasing fruits for my mother who had been repeating for days now of a meal she wished to cook with them. The bag hanging from my arm was already filled with produce, the weight becoming bothersome. I thanked the local vendor, a friend of a friend’s, and headed north towards home with a small exhale leaving my lips, one hand adjusting my shawl around my shoulders. The noise of chatter and footsteps to my left caught my attention, and I curiously looked. A metal ship sat by the harbor while a crew of sailors exited and entered through a door on the deck, stepping back and forth from the ramp to our docks with wooden boxes in their arms. Other vendors greeted them, conversing with who I assumed to be the leader of the small crew. One of the members caught my attention, his tall, thin appearance contrasting with the others.  


He was clad in a navy button up shirt, pants in the same hue rolled at the hem above his ankles to expose crisp white socks and shoes of ebony. His strawberry blonde hair was shaved at the bottom, parted to one side, and partially hidden by a sailor’s hat. When our eyes met, I nearly hid from sight, more embarrassed than scared, but I saw him warmly smile before I looked away. I peeked back at him with a faint rosy flush from behind the leaves of the short banana trees of the docks.  


“I saw you looking, Utari.”  


I tensed at hearing her familiar voice behind me. I turned around and nudged her arm, a smile finding my face as Kasih grinned. She had been a friend of mine since I was still a child, her face forever donning a chronic smirk. Our hair was of the same charcoal shade and would've been of the same style had I not always braided my strands to curl further and pin to my head, forming a crown of hair that shifted from being naturally straight to waves that won’t leave. But I never complained, finding them to be similar to the ocean and their own beauty.  


“So,” she continued and extended the vowel, “who is it? The one who caught your eye.”  


I crossed my arms over my chest. “It's none of your business.”  


“I'll tell you who caught my eye. That one over there.” Kasih pointed to a burly sailor to our right, thick brunette curls poking from underneath his hat, and his arms strong enough to possibly hold both her and I with one hand.  


“Him?” I almost cringed. “He looks almost thirty.”  


“Oh. Well at least he's handsome,” she kept her smirk. “But you know, they're actually going to be coming by here more often.”  


I was slightly taken aback. “Really?”  


“Yeah, they first came here last week, but I heard they'll be arriving every seven days. Perhaps five if the weather is nice. Something about a trading agreement our government agreed to. Whatever or whatever. I'm not too sure how I feel about seeing new boats every week, but I can't really complain, can I? Although-” She playfully grinned as she leaned closer. “-I guess it'll be nice to see them more often, don't you think? You'd like to see the sailor who caught your eye more often, huh?”  


“Go away,” I laughed and playfully shoved her away, her grin blooming.  


“Fine.” She held both hands to her chest, her palms directed at me. “I'll leave, but don't forget…” She had already begun walking the opposite direction, and she turned around to yell, her hands cupped around her mouth, “...seven days! And five-”  


“-if the weather’s nice,” I finished. “Yes, yes, I know. Leave, Kasih!”  


She winked before turning back to see in front of her once more. I looked towards the docks, seeing most of the sailors laughing and conversing, a few leaving to near the fruit stands. The end of the bustling commotion was my cue to leave, and I adjusted my shawl and the bag in my hand before turning in the same direction as Kasih to head home. Silence except for the soft, calm rustle of the palm leaves over my head and the gentle cries of the seagulls on the nearby beach. And the footsteps behind me. I kept alert, listening intently to how they walked. Long strides, rubber soles. Boots, it seemed. I peeked down at my bag. Corn cobs were hard enough to do sufficient damage if struck in the right area.  


_Hello_ , the owner of the steps called behind me, their tone kind. I was slightly taken aback but continued walking, assuming they were speaking to another. And if not, well, I had my corn.  


_Hello_ , once again. _Um, miss. Excuse me, please._  


This time I did halt my steps, turning my head to see who it was that spoke. My face darkened a shade against my will when my eyes met the same handsome sailor from the docks, his forehead slightly damp with sweat and causing his strawberry blonde hair to stick to his skin.  


_Yes?_ I asked, bringing my shawl closer around myself. My heart skipped a beat at the thought that he knew our language.  


_Hello ___, he repeated, constantly looking away as he stuttered and stumbled in his words, attempting the correct pronunciations. Oh. So he didn't know. _I, uh, I was...wondering...where to-to go...um, place-_  


_Do you speak English?_ I softly smiled.  


_En...English...?_ He instantly changed languages. “Yes!” Relief flooding his features, his hand at his chest. “Yes, I speak English. Do you? I'd assume since you asked.”  


“I do,” I answered. “What did you need? You mentioned going somewhere. A place?”  


“Yes, I was going to ask if you know where I can find a local doctor? Or a pharmacist.”  


“A pharmacist? If you're looking for a pharmacist, then you've actually spoken to the right person.”  


“Have I?”  


“Yes. My mother is the pharmacist of this city.”  


His features illuminated, a surprised smile on his face. “Your mother is the pharmacist?”  


“That's what I said.”  


“Wow, I really am glad I spoke to you. You see, I've been needing a doctor for a while now, and-”  


“Are you sick?” I interrupted, concern in my voice.  


“Oh, no,” he instantly corrected. “I've just been looking for medical supplies.”  


“Then come along,” I ushered, continuing my journey north. “I'll show you where her shop is.”  


“Thank you, honestly. I truly appreciate it. Also, I'm sorry about earlier,” he apologized. “I'm afraid I've only been studying your language for a few days now, so I can't hold a proper conversation.”  


“That's alright,” I assured. “I can help translate for you.”  


“Thank you, miss, I'd really appreciate that. I have translators on board, but I'll make sure to ask for your assistance when I need it,” he kindly smiled. “Miss, how-”  


“Utari Cahaya,” I corrected.  


“Sorry?”  


“Utari Cahaya,” I repeated. “My name is Utari Cahaya. Not ‘miss’.”  


“Oh, I didn't mean to offend-”  


“Who said anything about being offended?”  


He paused, speechless. I found myself smiling once more. What an interesting character.  


“Well, Utari Cahaya, I wanted to ask how did you know English? You speak it quite well, I must say.”  


“Books,” I simply answered. “I've read a lot of books in English as a child, and one of my teachers taught it to me when I was younger. My friend knows it too, but not everybody does here, I'm afraid.”  


“Books. Oh, how I miss my books,” he reminisced. “I used to have a library back home, huge too. But when I joined my crew, I had to say goodbye for what I thought would be a few months but it's actually been over a year now.”  


I peeked up at his face, the difference in our height nearly four inches but enough to have me glance up.  
“You've been gone from home for that long?”  


“Yeah,” he answered, a new sadness to him. “I'm from France, you see, so I've traveled to many countries to get where I am now.”  


“You're from France?”  


“Yes, but I was born in Wales. Do you know where that is?”  


I shook my head no, confused but liking the sound of the name. It reminded me of the mammal in the sea. A beautiful place.  


“It's near one of your biggest traders, the United Kingdom. My father was from France and my mother is from Peru, and I just so happened to be born there. We moved when I was young to Paris, and I've lived there for the past eighteen years.”  


“How old are you, if you don't mind me asking?”  


“Oh, no worries. I'm twenty. Twenty-one next June. And you?”  


“Nineteen. Twenty this November. Happy late birthday.”  


“Thank you,” he sounded genuinely grateful.  


“Do you speak more languages?” I asked. “I'm guessing you speak French too.”  


“I do,” he kindly smiled. “And English obviously. Spanish from my mother. I've learned Cantonese and Mandarin because we travel to China the most. I know some Sanskrit and Japanese. A bit of German, too. I picked up a few words from Italy on our last trip, and I'm barely learning Malay. And you?”  


“Just Malay and English, I'm afraid.”  


“At least your Malay is better than mine,” he laughed, his smile warm.  


I continued to guide him towards what I called home, the three story building cracking at its edges, vines growing through each to curl up drain pipes from the tiled roof. The first floor was my mother’s pharmacy, items shipped from our neighboring country brought every week and sold out just as fast. Oriental rugs were sparsely placed across the wooden floors, ornate with the yarns sold from the shop a few blocks north. The second floor was our kitchen and living room along with my mother’s bedroom, my own room on the third floor with a circled window that displayed the vast blue I had grown to love.  


The sailor standing beside me looked around the store, slowly reading the labels but soon giving up with a light exhale when his attempts proved failure. Through the two windows at the shop front filtered the soft sunlight, landing atop my mother’s crown and illuminating the charcoal of her braided hair, the white fabric of her dress, as she sat behind the organized desk with papers and pens and a donated cash register from fifty years ago. A fan from Vietnam was gripped in her hand as she slowly waved it back and forth towards her face.  


_Oh, Uta, welcome back_ , my mother greeted, keeping her slouched posture but adding a warm grin. _Did you buy what I asked?_  


_Thank you, mom. And yeah, I did. They're here._ I held up the bag, and she nearly clapped. When her eyes landed on the sailor, she stared at me.  


_Who's he?_ She gasped, chuckling to herself. _Did you bring a boy home?_  


I couldn't help but laugh. _He's a sailor from the docks. Kasih said they'll be coming every five days to deliver supplies._  


_Oh. Very nice. What's his name?_  


_I...I don't know_ , I admitted, now curious.  


_Your first time bringing a boy home and you don't even know his name? How shameful._  


I laughed and snatched her fan to lightly smack the top of her hand. _Yeah and it'll be the last if you keep acting that way._  


More chuckles, the edges of her eyes crinkling. _Hey! she called to him. What's your name, sir?_  


He didn't seem to notice she was talking to him until he faced her, shifting his gaze between our eyes with confusion written across his expression.  


“M...me?” He pointed a finger to his chest.  


_Can he understand us?_ my mother asked, keeping her glance at him.  


_Not exactly._  


_Then how did you two talk?_  


_He knows English._  


_Ah, English. She leaned back in her seat. You know I'm not very good at that language, Uta._  


_You speak it good, mother._  


She huffed.  


“She was asking what your name was,” I spoke to the sailor once I realized how much his confusion had grown.  


“Oh! Mason Ceri Desjardins, at your service.” He bowed, removing his hat to place at his chest. “You have a lovely shop.”  


I turned towards my mother. _He says you have a lovely shop._  


_Tell him I said thank you, and that if what he just said was his name, I can't speak it._  


“My mother says thank you, and that she finds your name just as lovely.”  


_I understood that, Uta. What's he here for?_  


_He told me he needs medical supplies._  


“Medical supplies!” she repeated, shifting to English and repeating the words loud enough for Mason to flinch. “I have medical supplies. This way, uh, boy sailor.”  


_Mother, his name is Mason_ , I hastily whispered as we followed her deeper inside the shop.  


_Didn't I just say I can't speak it? He says it a lot prettier than I probably ever will_. In English and with a wholehearted grin, “Okay. I have medical supplies here. Choose what wish you.”  


“Thank you, ma'am.” He slightly bowed before gathering the boxes filled with gauzes, bandage wraps, medicines, and wipes. I noted the discreet addition of the bandage wraps inside the box now in his arms.  


My mother rang up the price and spoke it aloud. Mason’s confusion resurfaced, and my mother leaned sideways to whisper at me, _I did speak English, right?_  


“Yes, you did. Um, Mason,” I caught his attention. “Is something wrong?”  


“No, I'm sorry, I just- I'm not used to the currency here, my apologies.”  


_He says he's not familiar with the currency_ , I translated, and she gave a brisk nod.  


_Tell him that today it's free of charge, Uta. Courtesy of me._  


I stared at her in awe. She waved her hand in the air. _Oh, don't look surprised. Just translate._  


I kept my glance for a few seconds longer. “She said that she'll give it to you for free.”  


Mason’s eyes glowed. “Really? Thank y-”  


_Only for today!_  


“Only for today,” I repeated.  


“Thank you so much,” he continued. “I truly appreciate it.”  


_I doubt you can afford something like that from such a business. I mean, you're traveling everywhere and when you travel, you spend. How does somebody earn money with his kind of work?_  


“Mason,” I asked, “how do you earn money from a job like yours?”  


“Oh, we don't exactly earn a lot. More of a small percentage of what is sold. Plus, it's divided among my crew.” He hummed in thought. “Now...I don't even know how much I get paid. Do I even get paid?”  


_He's questioning whether he gets paid or not._  


My mother gasped. _What does he even eat with no money? Leaves? Is he a vegetarian, Uta?_  


_Mom, stop it. I'm sure he eats._  


_We need to feed him_. She clapped. “Would you like dinner?” she asked him.  


“Dinner? Thank you, ma'am, but-”  


“No,” she brushed away his words with her hand. “I insist. This way.”  


We followed her up the stairwell to the second story, where the living room greeted us first.  


_Uta, you still have the vegetables with you, yes?_  


“Yeah.”  


_What should we make with it?_  


I looked away in thought. _Bubur._  


She clapped once more. _Bubur. Perfect._ She turned towards Mason. “Sit.”  


He instantly planted down on one of the couches. Within minutes, we were eating bowls of Burbur between lighthearted conversation and warm smiles, Mason’s awed expression lingering until the last spoonful.  


_Ask him if he'd like to stay here for tonight_ , she told me. _He probably needs a nice roof to stay under for the night._  


“My mother's asking if you would you like to stay the night.” I stared at Mason, secretly awaiting his response.  


He looked from me to her, a soft smile on his face. “Thank you, ma'am, but I need to return to my ship tonight. We're leaving to Hong Kong tomorrow morning, so I need to be there early. I really appreciate it, though.”  


_He says he can't_ , I translated. _He needs to leave tomorrow._  


“Oh.” She waved her hand. “Just stay, sailor boy. You get a couch. Very soft. Cozy. Breakfast in morning.”  


I directed a shrug and smirk his way. “She's not going to give up.”  


He returned my smile. “Okay then. Just show me which couch.”  


I didn't realize how quick one could fall asleep until I heard his snores the instant he closed his eyes. For breakfast, my mother made Nasi Lemak with a warm cup of Teh Tarik, and Mason’s glowing gratitude resurfaced. I waved goodbye after his departure, watching him fade along with his ship in the distance until it was no longer visible. But even then I stood there, staring at the horizon with a hopeful heart at seeing him once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> During my elementary years, I often filled my composition books with short stories I had created from my wandering imagination. In early high school, I began to write a particular story about dealing with severe depression and homophobia in society, something I was brutally dealing with at the time. Ever since I understood and accepted my sexuality, I've always wished to portray the LGBT community as regular people with regular stories, just as it should be. From that first major story came an obvious improvement in my writing, and I'm more than glad to share one of my many writings about a girl from an island in Malaysia and a transgender sailor who fall in love to those who chose to read this. May the emotions I felt while writing be understood. For any questions, concerns, or maybe you'd just like to say something nice, send a message to my Tumblr (@inversidom-riot), Twitter (@Inversidom_Riot), or even email. Thank you for reading, and hope you enjoy! XOXO Lyn


	2. A Letter and Mason's Surprise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Italicized letters indicates the character is speaking in another language.

Every seven days. Five if the weather’s nice.

I found myself waiting by the docks on those days, anticipating his return with a drum in my chest I blamed on worry for his wellbeing. When he did return with the rest of his crew, he would always join me on a walk after delivering the new shipments to talk about the places he had seen. Countries of castles and towering architecture is what he spoke of, always going into detail about the colors. I grew to love his stories, wishing to hear more when he returned once again. He always stayed for dinner at my mother’s request, repeating his gratitude before he left for the night.

I received a letter from him one day, my mother exclaiming in glee as she dashed into my bedroom where I sketched the ocean waves, my thoughts lost in seeing Mason’s face soon.

 _Uta! A letter_ , she glowed. _You got a letter from the sailor boy!_  


I dropped my pencil and instantly neared her, grabbing the damp package that smelled of sea salt.  


_Open it_ , she urged. Excitement caused my fingers to slightly tremble as I gingerly ripped open the top of the letter. I pulled out and unfolded the paper that was inside to see his neat, cursive handwriting.  


“‘Dear Utari, I'm writing this letter in hopes that you'll receive it soon and safely. I've been thinking about you (and not in a creepy way I swear)-’” I paused to laugh. “Oh, Mason, you silly boy.” I continued to read, “‘-and your mother, and I'm wishing you the best of health. We've just passed Japan, and I made sure to enclose a very beautiful card that reminded me of you.’” I sat down at the edge of my bed to place the letter on my lap. Inside the envelope was a print of a Japanese temple atop a mountain, the ocean waves washing against the rocks. “‘It's artwork of a place of peace besides the ocean, the love of your heart. I'm glad I travel the ocean so much, because I'm able to appreciate the vast waters just as much as you do. Japan is so beautiful, I must show you the photos my crew and I took while there. If only sushi and mochi could last my trip so I could take some to you. I'm wishing you and your mother safety and care. I miss you so much! I know I've already said so, but my heart is beating just at the thought of seeing you once more. Okay, I need to finish this letter before my crew begins to get mad at our delay. I think I may be taking too long. I can't wait until I see you. Again! I've written it again.’” I had to pause from reading until my laughter subsided. “‘Charles is yelling at me now, I must go. Goodbye for now, Utari. Until we meet again! P.S. I have a very nice surprise for when I return. Hoping to see you soon and sending lots of love your way, Mason Ceri Desjardins’”  


I sat at the edge of the docks the day Mason was set to return, my feet lightly swinging in the cold water. Small fish neared and nibbled on my toes, and I smiled at my reflection in the clear water. A horn blasted nearby, and I instantly lifted my head to see Mason’s ship near the docks. I slid my feet out of the water and stood, avidly waiting to see him. His crew members filed out, one by one, each directing a kind smile my way. One of the men neared me with his hand extended for a shake.  


“Utari, yes?” he asked.  


I nodded. “That's me.”  


“Such a pleasure to finally talk.” He leaned closer to whisper, “Don't tell Mason, but he's been talking about you like crazy. Everything he describes you as is extremely sweet, it's charming,” he chuckled. “The crew’s been joking about how much he talks about you. He's been asking me for a few weeks now to teach him Malay so he could talk to you better, but let's keep that a secret between us.” He winked.  


My heart felt as if it had swelled, a warm flush on my face. “He's been learning Malay...for me?”  


“Oh, of course. He's very devoted, in fact. One of the most devoted students I've had. He cares about you deeply, Utari.”  


Far off I could hear Mason’s voice call, “Utari!”  


“Oh.” His crew member briskly straightened his posture and adjusted the buttons of his jacket. “That's my cue to leave. It's very nice meeting you, Utari.” He bowed before departing, patting Mason’s shoulders when he was close enough. Mason peeked back at him before looking at me with confusion.  


“You spoke to Charles?”  


“He wanted to say hello. It was quite sweet.”  


“I'm glad you think so,” he genuinely grinned. “Now, Utari!” He grabbed both my hands in his own, and my heart skipped a beat. “I must show you my surprise. Please, follow me. Come on.” He ushered me forward, our hands still clasped as we ran along the rocked path I recognized to be towards the small, flat ridges that grew along the sea’s edge. Mist rose from the ocean and slightly damped the ground where we stepped. When we were nearly at the top of the ridge, Mason slowed his pace and told me to cover my eyes, which I did. I was blindly lead forward until he halted once more.  


“Okay, Utari,” he spoke. “You can uncover your eyes.”  


I avidly did and was instantly met with the gentle mist kissing my cheeks and exposed skin, the vast, pale blue of the calm waves stretching along the horizon. It was beautiful, and I found my breath caught in my throat.  


“The view is a beautiful surprise, Mason.” I turned towards him with a smile. “Thank you.”  


“Oh, well, this wasn't exactly the surprise.” He dropped the bag from his back on the ground and unzipped the largest pouch to pull out a red blanket. With my help, we spread it over the earth and planted down atop it.  


“What is this, Mason?” I couldn't help but kindly laugh.  


“My letter!” he beamed. “It's about my letter.”  


I grew confused. “Your letter? What about it?”  


“Remember how I said I couldn't bring sushi?”  


“Yes.”  


“Well…” He reached into his bag and bestowed a closed, now opened by him, box filled with sushi rolls and dumplings. “...sushi!”  


I couldn't help but laugh at his glowing expression as more and more boxes were unloaded from the backpack and arranged along the blanket. Udon noodles, steamed vegetables, and mochi.  


“Serve yourself as much as you'd like,” he told me as he handed me a pair of wooden chopsticks.  


“We can just share,” I answered as I shifted so we sat side by side, our gazes on the ocean before us.  


“That works too,” he directed a smile at me as he reached for sushi rolls. “You must try one, please, Utari.”  


“Hmm,” I hummed. “Which one should I try?”  


“That one.” He pointed to the one in the left corner, and I carefully grabbed it with the end of my chopsticks and instantly tasted the rice and salmon. “What do you think?” He eagerly awaited my response.  


“It's so good!” I glowed.  


His grin grew rosy, a shine in his eyes. “I'm so glad you think so. That's one of my favorites. Try this one now.”  


Our meal continued in comfortable chatter and gentle silence, the main sound being the crash of the waves against the rocks below. I don't know how many minutes passed, but I didn't care.  


He cleared his throat.  


I continued to slurp the noodles.  


Another cough.  


I paused and stared at him sideways. One last slurp before asking, “Yes, Mason?”  


“I-I have something to say.”  


I was slightly taken aback when I noticed his sheepish demeanor, his hand adjusting the collar of his suit.  


“Well alright,” I kindly urged, “go on. Say what you need to.”  


An inhale. Exhale. And he told me his first full length sentence in my language.  


_I find you to be a lovely person, Utari Cayaha. You're a batari._  


I felt my face burn a bright pink at the last word. Goddess.  


“Batari?” I repeated, my voice almost breathless.  


His hue was darker than mine, and I noticed him slightly shift in place. “Batari Utari,” he spoke, regaining as much composure as he could. “I think it fits you, Batari.”  


I stared at him for a few seconds before laughing. “Oh, Mason, you're too kind. Where did you learn that?”  


“I asked the translators on deck to help me. Wait, maybe I should've kept that secret,” he laughed. “I need some dignity.”  


“Well, tell your dignity that it's okay to receive assistance from others.” I playfully nudged his arm.  


“Okay, but my dignity will get back to you in a few days. It still needs some time to recover.”  


Our laughter echoed around us. I never wanted this moment to end.  


One day on his return, he embraced me, hugging me close as he spun us both in a circle, exclaiming how much he had missed me.  


“I really did miss you, Batari. And look what I found for you.” He reached inside his backpack, handing me a novel with a title etched in another language. My fingertips ran over the rough texture while he continued to avidly speak. “I really hope you'll like it, Batari. I don't know what it's about, and I know you don't know what it's about either, but I hope you enjoy it. Think of it as a souvenir,” he kindly laughed.  


I smiled, my chest airy at the thought he had put into the gift. Before I could audibly say my thanks, I tiptoed and kissed his cheek, hugging the book to my chest.  


“Thank you so much, Mason.” My cheeks tinted a rosy pink. “I really appreciate it.”  


He stood frozen in place, surprise on his features. His face gradually darkened, the color nearing crimson as he removed his hat and sheepishly held it in his hands, a soft smile on his face. “It's my pleasure, Batari.”  


Ever since that day, I received books from him as gifts. One of my favorites was the one he mailed to me on my twentieth birthday about oceanography, the pages flooded with artwork and photographs of the ocean from other locations. He had made it himself, stamps and pins from that country beside each photo along with a small paragraph describing the scenery. I made sure to give him plenty of cheek and forehead kisses when I saw him, and he was just as flustered and shy as before.


	3. Mason y Antoinette

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Italicized letters indicates the character is speaking in another language.

A tropical storm struck a day after Mason’s departure. The clouds were heavy with rain and wind, leaves and mud coating the streets and the roofs of our homes. The duration was longer than all of us had hoped, and I spent the majority of my days with my mom locked at home, my eyes occasionally glancing out at the ashen sky and raging waters from my bedroom window. A letter from Mason arrived in the mail two weeks later.  


“‘Dear my Batari,’” I read aloud, my mother beside me donning her reading glasses. “‘A storm has struck the South China Sea on our way to Taiwan, and we've decided to port at Manila in the Philippines until it passes. The people here are very kind to offer us shelter during such a rough time. I hope you know that I miss you dearly, my Batari, and I wish to see you soon. Your smile and presence always gives me the warmth I need to continue each new day. You are my motivation, Batari, and I can't wait until I see you soon. Please stay safe during this storm. My crew and I are sending you and Malaysia lots of love and care. With much love and hopes to be reunited with you once more, Mason Ceri Desjardins XOXO’”  


Five days later on a calming morning, Kasih stormed inside my house, up the stairs, and slammed open my bedroom door to find me absentmindedly laying on my mattress.  


“Get up!” She rapidly pat my shoulder. “Stop sulking, Utari.”  


“I'm not sulking.”  


“You sure? I think I see a tear right there.” She poked my cheek. “And you don't want Mason to see you crying, do you?”  


I instantly snapped out of my thoughts and stared at her. “Mason?”  


She nodded. “Yeah. And his crew. That's just bad manners.”  


“Mason,” I repeated. Slight commotion could be heard downstairs on the first floor, and I carefully sat upright to not disturb the previous hour’s migraine. “Mason.”  


I briskly departed from the room, stepped down the wooden stairs, and peeked into the pharmacy. Mason’s crew stood around my mother with fatigue on their features, creating small conversation. Mason turned around, his eyes beginning to widen when our gazes met.  


“Bata-”  


I ran to him before he could finish and jumped into his embrace, my face buried in the crook of his neck. “Mason,” I began to cry. “Oh, my Mason. I missed you so much.”  


He returned my hug, his nose in my hair. “I missed you too, my Batari. I missed you so much.”  


“I'm so glad you're okay. I'm so glad-” I sniffed. “-nothing bad happened to you.”  


“The same to you too.” He planted a kiss on my damp cheek.  


_Uta_ , my mother spoke, and I felt her hand softly rest on my shoulder. I slightly parted from Mason’s embrace to look at her.  


_Yes?_   


_They're going to be staying here for the rest of the day._ I looked towards the wall clock as she continued. The afternoon. _They're going to begin unloading their items soon. I'll make space in the second story and along the back of this shop. A few crew members may stay on board to help fix small repairs on the boat. It's a full house tonight, so we best get to work._  


I nodded in agreement. Soon, half of the pharmacy was filled with crates of personal belongings. When the night neared and the dinner my mother made had all been gratefully eaten, the sailors arranged their sleeping bags around the floor of our living room. It didn't take long for their loud snores to be heard, and I departed to my room after Mason and I helped clean the kitchen to escape the sounds. Mason stepped near the small crate of his own belongings he had left on my bed at my earlier request.  


“I have my own sleeping bag,” he spoke as he carefully pushed aside items inside the box. “There's some space on the floor over here.”  


“Oh, Mason, just take the bed. I might not go to sleep for a while.” I planted down on my desk chair and stared out towards the calm ocean waters reflecting the bright stars above. “The night is too beautiful for me to rest.”  


He quietly neared me and placed his crate atop the desk. “Then I'll watch the night with you.”  


“There's an extra chair inside the closet.” I pointed where. “I don't want you to stand the whole time.”  


He gratefully brought the chair. “Thank you, Batari, for caring about my needs.”  


I couldn't help but kindly laugh. He lightly pat the sides of his crate.  


“Do you want to see inside?”  


“I never thought you'd ask,” I smiled.  


Atop his items was a blanket from India, multiple fabrics of intricate detail knitted together to create one large quilt. He allowed me to don the soft fabric over my shoulders as we continued to look through. A book caught my attention, and I carefully grabbed it.  


“What's this, Mason?” I ran my fingertips over the worn leather.  


“Oh.” He seemed taken aback for a second before instantly relaxing his posture. “Photo album. My mother made it for me before my trip.”  


“Can I see it?”  


Another short hesitation before, “Yes, of course, my Batari.”  


The first few pages were of a charming baby girl, a smile on her face in nearly every photo as the years passed. I couldn't understand the text beside each photo except for one name. Antoinette. Near the middle of the book was a photo of the same girl, now a late teenager, beside a boy of almost the same height, their arms slung over the other as they beamed with laughter. The boy was dressed in a sailor’s uniform, the girl in a summer dress. Underneath the photo in the same handwriting as the other photos was “Mason y Antoinette”.  


“Mason.” I pointed to the boy with a chuckle. “You look so handsome here.”  


He gave a halfhearted laugh, his head bowed. I curiously studied him as my expression gradually fell.  


“Mason? What's wrong?”  


He softly shook his head. “Nothing. Nothing's wrong. It's just that…” He gingerly shifted my index finger still on the page over to the beaming girl. “...that’s me.”  


I stared at the photo once more. Mason y Antoinette. Mason softly cleared his throat.  


“I'm sorry I didn't-”  


“Never apologize,” I interrupted, turning to shift my gaze between his glassy eyes. A smile found my face. “So, who's this?” I pointed back to the boy. “Looks like family.”  


“Older brother,” he answered. “His name was Mason. He was around two years older than me, and honestly one of my biggest role models. Fighting, etiquette, manners. He taught me all of it. He was…” A new sadness laced within his features. “...the greatest brother I could ever ask for. He passed not too long after that photo was taken. Mason, was his name until I took his job on the sea. I found a new crew. A new home. I finally became who I was destined to be, I just wish he wouldn't have left so soon.” He rubbed his nose with his wrist. “I wish he would've lived long enough to see his little brother travel the same seas he did.”  


“He's handsome,” I mused. “Just like you.”  


Mason softly, genuinely laughed, his face flushing a rosy hue. “You really think so?”  


“I know so. ‘Don't ever doubt what I say’, that's what Kasih tells me and now I'm saying it to you.”  


A gentle silence fell between us. “Thank you, my Batari,” he whispered.  


“For what?”  


He shrugged. “I just...thank you.”  


“There's no need to thank me.” I stared at him but he didn't meet my gaze. I leaned forward and planted a ginger kiss on his cheek. He looked up in surprise. “Knowing what I know now doesn't make me love you any less,” I warmly smiled.  


Relief and other emotions passed across his face, and soon thick tears began to spill down his rosy cheeks, his expression just as warm as my own. I wiped each tear with my thumb, my eyes shifting between his own. He kissed my palm before smiling as more tears silently spilled down his face. We fell asleep once the cold, winter winds from outside slowly seeped through the cracks in the windows or walls and caused us to halt from looking through his crate any longer. Our hands were kept clasped together until the next morning.


	4. A Proposal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Italicized letters indicates the character is speaking in another language.

The winter and spring months passed with ease, the display of Mason’s gifts and letters in my room growing by the months. It was now May, the season dying to shift into the warmer days of summer. Mason had left two weeks earlier to the United Kingdom, and I avidly awaited his return with a drum in my heart.  


_When is Mason supposed to return?_ my mother asked, peeling oranges in the kitchen.  


_I'm hoping soon_ , I answered, brushing out the wrinkles from my dress. _It's already been a few weeks._  


_Yeah_ , she hummed in agreement. _But I'm sure he's doing okay. He sent me a letter and-_  


I froze. _A letter? He sent you a letter?_  


She placed her hand over her mouth. _Oh no_ , she laughed in defeat. _I've said too much._  


_Mother, what did his letter say?_  


_I can't say!_  


_Mom._  


_Okay. I'll say. But just a little!_  


_Just a little._  


_Okay. He asked for my permission for something, and being the proud mother that I am, I accepted his request._  


_What was it? What was his request?_ I avidly asked.  


_Patience_ , she chuckled. _Just wait until he comes back._  


My patience was wearing dangerously thin until Kasih entered my room the next day.  


“Congratulations!” she cheered, and I peeked back at her from where I sat at my desk. “Your time for sulking is over.”  


“And why's that?”  


“The only reason why your sulking would end, of course. Mason and his crew-”  


I was already out of the room.  


“-came back today!” she called. I hurriedly traveled down the stairs and into the pharmacy, my bare feet stepping over the worn rugs. Mason was back. Mason was back. I eagerly opened the main door and shielded my eyes from the blinding sunshine. When my vision focused, I saw the small crowd of the crew gathered outside of the shop, all of them donning grins as they stood behind Mason, his hat in his hands as he flushed pink from whatever they had said. When our eyes met, he instantly straightened his posture, coughing to clear his throat. His fellow shipmates nudged him closer to where I stood.  


“My Batari,” he started, “I-”  


_Hey, what's going on here?_ my mother yelled from inside the house, now on the first floor and standing a few feet behind me. All our gazes landed on her and she instantly hushed, speaking her apology behind her hands. Mason composed himself once more.  


“My Batari,” he repeated. “I fell in love with you when I learned how beautiful you were with each of my returns. I always see how interested you sound and look when I speak of the countries I've visited. So I was thinking…” He got down on one knee, his shipmates cheering before instantly silencing as he bestowed a small golden ring. “My Batari Utari Cahaya, would you like to marry me and visit these places with me for the rest of our lives?”  


My heart was drumming in my chest, my face rosy, and tears of jubilance cascading down my face.  


“Yes, my Mason,” I replied, nodding as I stepped down to hug him, peppering kisses across his face. “Yes. I want to marry you. I want to marry you, my Mason.” I embraced around his neck as his crew rejoiced, Mason returning the hug. “I'll marry you, my love.”


	5. Forever Always

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The final chapter!!

Our wedding was small but festive; a moment I would never forget. The flowers from that day were saved within one of the books Mason had given me, and I often find myself paging through them, memories of that ethereal day flooding my mind and heart. The day I began my long travels with Mason ended in tears from my mother, however, joyful. Oceans and landscapes and all I could ever dream of now greeted me as we sailed across vast cerulean seas. He told me new stories when we traveled past cities he remembered, going into detail about every hue, and this time, I was able to say, “I remember that too, my Mason.”  


It took me twenty years to experience such new beauty, and I could never wish for anything different. Especially my Mason sailor by my side, forever always.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading and following through the journey of Mason and Utari. This is my first published work, and I'm so grateful that I'm given the chance to publicly display it. Sending lots of love to you, the readers. Thank you! XOXO Lyn

**Author's Note:**

> During my elementary years, I often filled my composition books with short stories I had created from my wandering imagination. In early high school, I began to write a particular story about dealing with severe depression and homophobia in society, something I was brutally dealing with at the time. Ever since I understood and accepted my sexuality, I've always wished to portray the LGBT community as regular people with regular stories, just as it should be. From that first major story came an obvious improvement in my writing, and I'm more than glad to share one of my many writings about a girl from an island in Malaysia and a transgender sailor who fall in love to those who chose to read this. May the emotions I felt while writing be understood. For any questions, concerns, or maybe you'd just like to say something nice, send a message to my Tumblr, Twitter, or even email. Thank you for reading, and hope you enjoy! XOXO Lyn


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